


these bruises tell stories

by carefulren



Category: 9-1-1 (TV)
Genre: Buck doesn't know what to do when Eddie's the dumb one, Eddie needs to stop being the dumb one, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, Injury, M/M, Tumblr Prompt, Whump, Whumpfic, motherhen buck
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-13
Updated: 2020-02-13
Packaged: 2021-02-28 07:00:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,260
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22689634
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/carefulren/pseuds/carefulren
Summary: Buck's worried about Eddie, but Eddie insists he's fine with a lie that he pulls off well until Buck catches sight of his battered and bruised body.(aka the one where Buck flips out when he finds out about Eddie's fighting)
Relationships: Evan "Buck" Buckley & Eddie Diaz, Evan "Buck" Buckley/Eddie Diaz
Comments: 14
Kudos: 276





	these bruises tell stories

It’s the adrenaline, Eddie thinks, the hot energy bringing forth a burning sense of exhilarating purpose that he chases with each swing of his fist, each kick of his foot. It’s the adrenaline that keeps him going back every other night to fight. It’s not the money, it’s not the shouting validation from the growing crowd, it’s the pure, pulsing feeling when his body almost jolts as if being struck by lightening each time his knuckles dig into a cheek or the side of his foot slams against a stomach. It’s the sense of danger that he can look at in the face, can smirk at, and have complete control over.

He’s not invincible by any means. He takes his fair share of hits, but the pain that blooms across his skin from each fist or foot only drives him further into the complicated love affair that is fighting.

He should be over it, breaking off the relationship now that things are starting to shift back into a slow sense of normalcy, yet he finds himself yearning to go back with each step that brings hot pain coursing over his body, almost needing to go back and release his frustrations, to move toward the new drug that is adrenaline.

It’s a constant fixture in his mind, and he’s thinking about it as he walks into the station to prepare for a full shift. Buck’s waiting for him, having already changed out for the day. It’s beginning to become a routine. Buck waits for him every morning, waves at him, attempts small talk, and Eddie brushes him off with a muted smile, unwilling to allow Buck back into his heart that quickly, knowing that once he does, Buck will drag him back in like a ripping current pulling him under a wave.

“Hey, Eddie.” 

Buck’s tone carries so much weight behind it, so much apologetic pain that’s covered in a soft rasp, and every morning, Eddie wants to give in because everything’s felt so out of sync without Buck at his side, yet he’s still afraid, still reeling from the unexpected pain and betrayal that came from the lawsuit.

“Hey,” he says back, offering a small nod, and he makes to walk past, but his ribs have been throbbing since this morning, hot and struggling at his sides, and he steps a little wrong, putting more weight on one foot then he means to, and he stumbles slightly with a wince. Buck’s at his side in an impressive second, one hand to the small of his back and the other gripping at his arm.

“Woah, Eddie, are you okay?” Buck’s voice is thick with concern that carries over to his widened eyes and furrowed brows, and Eddie pulls away harshly. 

“I’m fine.” He spits out, being careful with his weight distribution as he starts toward the locker room, sighing when he hears the familiar footfalls right behind him. He just wants to change, to distance himself from Buck, to put all of his focus toward his work to make the day go by fast so he can rush headfirst into a fight, lose his mind to the heat of flying fists and roaring crowds. 

“Then why are you limping?” 

Shit. He hadn’t realized, too lost in his thoughts to keep cautious of his footwork. He’s been favoring his right leg after a low swing kick knocked him on his ass the night before. He shifts his weight between both legs, swallowing back a wince as he stops before his locker.

“I said I’m fine.” 

“You’re not answering the question,” Buck fires back with a familiar heat that has Eddie whipping around, bag dropping to the floor. 

“I don’t owe you an explanation,” Eddie growls, voice low. “I don’t owe you anything.” Buck’s face falls at his words, and it grabs at his heart, reaching past his aching ribs and squeezing uncomfortably.

“I know you don’t,” Buck says softly, eyes falling to the floor, and Eddie’s heart beats hard against his ribs. “I’m just worried about you.” 

Fuck. Eddie’s never been one to hold his ground against Buck, not when Buck’s like this, so... dejected, down, defeated. “I know,” he says around a sigh, the first words he’s said to Buck that aren’t fueled by an inner fire, and Buck whips his gaze toward him, eyes brighter, eager, hopeful.

“It’s just from--”

“--if you say rough housing with Christopher, I’m calling CPS.” Buck smiles, and Eddie matches it, exhaling easily through a small laugh, but the pain that small puff of air brings to his ribs has him grimacing, one hand moving instinctively to his side. 

“Eddie, seriously, what’s going on?” 

Buck steps toward him, and Eddie holds his free hand up, hand meeting Buck’s chest as he sucks in shallow breaths, inhaling and exhaling through the pain.

“I fell,” he lies. “A couple of days ago at that house fire call off Main Street. You were with Hen and Chimney, and I missed a rung on the ladder and fell.” He crafts the story on the spot, seeking out his opening because he was, in fact, alone when he was climbing down the ladder. 

“Jesus, Eddie, you should let Chimney check you out.” Buck moves to rest a hand on Eddie’s side, and Eddie hisses through clenched teeth, fingers curling around Buck’s wrist, guiding his hand away. 

“It’s fine,” he says, blinking slowly. “I promise,” he adds, and Buck’s eyes bore holes into his for an endless moment before he breaks away with a deep sigh, one hand rubbing at the back of his neck, a nervous tick. 

“You’re sure?” Buck asks, and Eddie nods, forcing a smile to his lips, one that pulls genuine when Buck’s eyes burst with blue, crinkling slightly at the outer corners. 

“And what about us? Are we okay?”

The questions catch Eddie off guard. His smile falters. He’s not sure if he’s ready to rip down the protective barrier he’s been building since the lawsuit, one crafted around a need to protect his trust, but he misses Buck. He wants to be pulled back into the ocean in his eyes, to be embraced by his smile that always glows with warmth, and he nods, lips curling into a smile at the relief that almost visibly washes over Buck.

“So,” Buck draws out, and Eddie knows the smile that pulls to his lips all too well. “Can I come over tonight? We have some shows to catch up on... unless, you watched without me?” 

He hasn’t. He couldn’t make something that’s meant to be done as a duo a solo activity. He needs Buck’s annoying banter and interruptions. “I’m appalled that you think I would watch The Bachelor without you.”

The light in Buck’s eyes steals his breath, and Buck goes to pull him into a hug, stopping just short with a small frown. “I’ll save it for when you’re feeling better.” He lifts one fist up, and Eddie smiles, bumping his against Buck’s.

“Thanks,” he says, eyes following Buck as the latter almost skips out of the locker room, and he waits a few moments, eyes glued to the door, ears perked, listening, and when he’s sure he’ll be alone for a few minutes, he reaches to the hem of his shirt, lifting it over his head with a sharp wince. 

Bending down to rifle through his bag hurts a lot more than he expects, if the ringing in his ears is any indication. This, he thinks, is going to be a really long day, but for the first time in a while, he has something new to look forward to, something that involves his couch, Buck’s warmth, a dumb reality show--

“--oh, Eddie, I forgot...” 

Eddie’s fingers tighten around his shirt, and he snaps his back straight, ignoring the pain as he whips around on his heel and presses his shirt to his bare torso in a poor attempt to hide the blacks and blues colored across his tan skin. He can’t get a read on Buck’s face, only watching as his jaw opens and closes, most likely waiting for the gears in his head to shift back toward the right direction.

“Buck, it’s not what you think,” Eddie jumps in before Buck can get a full grip, but when he moves to quickly slip his shirt over his head, to hide his injuries, Buck rushes him, ripping his shirt away and tossing it to the side. 

“You fell,” Buck mutters, hands ghosting across Eddie’s battered torso, and Eddie can do nothing but watch, eyes wide, frozen, as Buck unravels before him. “Bullshit, you fell! What the hell happened?” 

“It’s--”

“--Eddie, if you say it’s fine one more fucking time. Tell me what happened because it looks like you got your ass handed to you ten times over.” 

“I didn’t!” Eddie spits out, annoyed. “I kicked his ass. He just got in a few good hits.” When Buck’s face twists, confused, Eddie mentally kicks himself, and he moves from Buck, slipping past him to ease himself down slowly onto the bench, teeth clenched at the pain that seems to bloom all across him. 

“Eddie--”

“--I’ve been fighting,” he says, watching as Buck tilts his head, concern and confusion at war across his face. “For sport.” 

“Like boxing?” 

“Kinda, just minus the ring, any protective gear, refs...” His voice trails off, and he studies the way Buck shifts through emotions, unsure of which to take to, but then he seems to blow up, the flame finally hitting the fuse.

“Are you out of your fucking mind?” Buck shouts, both hands moving to run roughly through his hair. He starts to pace, and Eddie leans forward, dropping his elbows to his knees, his face falling into his cupped hands. 

“You have a fucking kid, Eddie! And a job that requires you to be healthy so you can save people!” 

“That’s gold coming from you,” Eddie mutters into his hands before he lifts a slow gaze up. 

“Well, yeah,” Buck starts, chest heaving against a racing heart, “because I’m the dumb, reckless one, and you’re the smart, responsible one! That’s how we operate, Eddie! Why would you--” 

“I was hurt!” Eddie snaps, flying to his feet. “You hurt me,” he bites out, jabbing his index finger to Buck’s chest. His body is burning with pain, but he swallows it back. “You fucked us over. Broke my trust.” His hand falls to his side, defeat heavy against his shoulders. “I needed a distraction, an outlet to release my feelings, and I got addicted. It’s a drug. I just kept going back, and--”

Buck pulls him to his chest, somehow still cautious of his injuries while simultaneously being tight enough to squeeze away his inner pain and insecurities, and he brings his arms around Buck, fingers gripping at the back of Buck’s shirt as if to cling to him like a lifeline.

“Shit, Eddie, I’m so fucking sorry.” Buck’s breath is hot and shaking against Eddie’s face, and he slumps in Buck’s grip for a few moments more before pulling back. 

“It’s fine. I was dumb.”

“No,” Buck’s quick to spit out. “I was. I abandoned you--”

“--that’s a bit dramatic,” Eddie says, and Buck shakes his head, motioning toward Eddie’s bare chest. 

“You look like you let Christopher use sharpie all over you,” Buck says. “I’d say that warrants drama.” 

Eddie laughs lightly, and Buck’s face softens, hand finding his shoulder.

“You need to let Chimney and Hen look you over.”

“They can’t know about what I’ve been doing,” Eddie’s voice is panicked, a little too quick, words spilling from his tongue, but he comes back down when Buck’s hand tightens on his shoulder. 

“We’ll make something up. I’ll cover for you.” 

“They aren’t stupid,” Eddie says, and Buck drops his hand, eyes suddenly narrowed, determined. 

“And neither are you.” 

*****

“Do you need anything? More ice? Water? Whiskey? A blanket?”

Eddie groans, head falling back against the couch. Buck’s been like this ever since Hen and Chimney checked him over. 

They crafted a quick story that wasn’t all a lie, saying that Eddie’s been distracted, worried about Christopher and mad at Buck, and as a result, he’s been a little too clumsy, falling too much, running into things. They bought it, and after a thorough check that ruled his ribs badly bruised, they forced him home, and Buck begged Bobby to let him go, too, so he could make it up to Eddie.

“No,” Eddie drags out the small word, bringing a slow gaze back to Buck. “Please stop and sit down so we can watch this shit.” 

“Sorry,” Buck says, falling back against the couch. “I just don’t know what I’m doing. The whole caretaker thing is more your scene.” 

“You’re doing amazing,” Eddie says, and he means it. Since he decided to give in and let Buck back into his heart, he’s felt light despite the bruises weighing him down, and Buck’s done everything humanly possible to ensure he’s comfortable and pain free. 

“I hope so,” Buck says, “I’ve got a lot to make up for--”

"--stop,” Eddie grumbles, pressing play on the TV. “We agreed to move past it, now shut the fuck up and watch.” 

Buck goes quiet beside him, and Eddie shifts on the couch until his shoulder brushes against Buck’s, and Buck slides an arm around his shoulders, mindful of the bruises. Eddie leans into Buck’s side, a small smile playing at his lips as he turns his attention to the TV.

**Author's Note:**

> Feedback is always appreciated! I love you guys :)
> 
> Come say hi or drop a prompt off on tumblr! (@toosicktoocare)


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